Cold Again
by Eutony
Summary: 'Her fingers had stilled mid-sentence for a reason, though. Someone sat down to her left. The mess of unruly curls and scent of leather gave a sharp jolt to her heart.' Jess Mariano and Rory Gilmore Literati future-fic post-series.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey."

Rory's world stilled for a moment in the rustic little coffee shop she was currently sitting in in the Village. She had her laptop in front of her at the bar-top, sitting in a high stool facing the window. She hadn't fully comprehended anything in what she suspected was a few hours, judging from the temperature of the black, stone cold coffee sitting to her right. Her article research had totally consumed her for what felt like five minutes, but realistically was probably closer to half a day.

It had been a long week for the youngest Gilmore, trying to finally get her editor to recommend her for features, and was working almost obsessively to that end. After she'd finished with the campaign trail, she had been automatically pigeon-holed for politics, and it was beginning to tire her. After almost six months of desperately trying to prove herself capable of other things, there was finally a window of opportunity – an open position (albeit temporary pregnancy cover) at a features desk. Her editor has given her the chance, and in true Gilmore fashion, she was trying not to disappoint.

Her fingers had stilled mid-sentence for a reason, though. Someone sat down to her left. The mess of unruly curls and scent of leather gave a sharp jolt to her heart.

"I figured it was my turn to come up behind _you_ in the city, this time," he intoned, smirking.

"Jess," Rory managed, the shock of seeing him still disabling her.

He leaned over her laptop, tipping her coffee cup towards himself to look inside. In doing this, he'd come closer to Rory than she was ready for. But, still unable to move, she stayed still, letting him enter the personal space in front of her, the scent becoming stronger with the proximity.

He retracted his arm, smirking at her, probably, Rory supposed, knowing exactly what she had been thinking. He slid off of the stool, sauntering to the coffee bar to order, she heard, two coffees. "Black. No syrups, no. It's coffee. It's supposed to _taste_ like coffee. No, I'm sure. I don't want to try the Gingerbread syrup, no. That sounds definitely disgusting. No. Black coffee. _Thanks."_

He returned, brushing past her, placing her coffee (the definitely black coffee) down next to her and setting his own to his lips, blowing on the hot liquid until the steam condensed on the window in front of them, frosting over the cold street. Rory watched as the mist receded silently, before taking the cup he'd set before her and muttering a small, timid "Thank you."

"Have I entered an alternate universe?" he asked, teasing evident in his tone. "I've said about five times the number of words you've said. It's starting to scare me a little," he laughed.

"I, uh ..." Rory struggled. She looked over to him, panic, she worried, written clearly on her face. His smirk widened a little, before looking at her laptop and nodding to it.

"Working?"

Rory looked down at the screen filled with articles and an open Word document. "Yeah, uh … I'm trying to get into Features."

"Features, huh?"

"Yeah. I loved writing Feature stuff at Yale. I've been writing Politics for a while now. I feel like it's time for a change," she said, still acutely aware that this was weird, this encounter with Jess Mariano.

She hadn't seen Jess since Philadelphia. The horrible night in Philadelphia. Years ago, now. He'd been invited back to Stars Hollow dozens of times, and no appearance. She knew, because Luke had asked her every time he'd invited Jess. And now Jess was acting so normal.

"For the Times, right?"

"Finally, yes. I love working there."

"But you didn't like the Campaign?" he asked curiously, sipping at his coffee, maintaining eye contact like he always had when they were kids.

"It was good experience," she answered, knowing full well Jess would be able to see through her, and true enough …

"You hated it."

"I missed Mom," she defended. Jess nodded silently, his eyes scrutinising her expression, his neutral. "And living out of a suitcase sucked."

"Okay," he said lightly, nodding a bit and taking another sip of coffee. His eyes kept searching hers. Rory wondered whether he would ask how she expected to be Christiane Amanpour while hating living out of a suitcase for an extended period, but he didn't. He finally shifted his gaze from hers to the street outside, saying, "I was walking past and spotted you in here. You were completely lost in what you were reading, because I must've stood there for at least five minutes watching you," he said, pointing to a spot on the pavement in front of them.

"Not creepy at all," she quipped, proud that she'd been able to quip all the while feeling complete turmoil and distress at the whole bizarre experience of seeing Jess again. Not that she hadn't missed talking to this boy. Not that she hadn't missed the smell of leather and old books he always brought along with him.

"What's creepy is how focussed you can be," he teased back.

"Don't pretend like you're not exactly the same, Mariano."

"Given the right book," he smirked. Looking down at his coffee cup, Rory was given the chance to take stock of the changes in him since she'd last seen him.

His hair was back to curly, a little longer than it had been when they were kids. There were a few more lines on his face. His fingers were still calloused as though he worked with his hands even though he didn't. He had stubble – not the clean shaven he'd always been. The leather jacket was still the same, as were the loose-fitting jeans. He was broader, like his uncle. Even though he'd always been muscular (not that she'd ever personally witnessed what was beneath his shirt), but he'd been a little thin as a teenager. The plaid shirt under the jacket made Rory almost laugh, thinking that he was becoming more and more like Luke, and pointing that fact out would be almost too funny to bear. Perhaps she should buy him a baseball hat, she thought. And the smell was still the same, with one aspect missing, though. The faint smell of stale smoke was absent. Maybe he'd finally kicked the habit.

Rory watched as his dark eyelashes brushed the apex of his high cheekbones with the same wonder that she had as a teen. He was still so beautiful.

He looked over to her eventually, noticing the silence and watching her as if wondering what she was thinking, narrowing his eyes a bit as he thought. Rory nervously took her first sip of the coffee he'd bought her, struggling to swallow under his gaze, wondering when she'd agreed to the date she now seemed to be on.

"Living near?" he asked.

Rory nodded, putting her cup down on the bar again. "Yeah, pretty near."

Jess nodded in understanding. "Go home to Stars Hollow often?"

"As often as I can, I guess," she answered. Jess, again, nodded, humming in response. "You apparently avoid it like the plague, still."

Jess' smirk disappeared a little at this. "I don't have much reason to be there anymore."

"All of your family live there," Rory reminded him. Jess raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. He nodded vaguely again. "So what about you?"

"Me?" he queried, running a calloused hand through his dark hair, looking a little stressed, now.

"Where are you living? What are you doing?"

"I'm back in New York, actually."

"Yeah?" she asked, curious, and panicked too. They lived in the same town again. Although New York and Stars Hollow were worlds apart in many ways, she knew, of course.

"Yeah," he told her in his smokiest tone. "The publishing house in Philly finally made enough money to open another place, and I wanted to do it here."

"So you opened a new place like Truncheon here?"

"Just the publishing side. The store would be too difficult to handle on my own. I see authors and edit. So I still have time to write myself. I was always better at the publisher stuff, anyway. Not really a public relations person."

"_Really?"_ Rory asked sarcastically, even herself hearing her mother in her tone.

He cracked a grin, and she had to smile back. They looked awkwardly away from each other again, watching the cold street outside as people bundled in coats and scarves and gloves hurried past, making their way to their destination seemingly as quickly was possible to get out of the cold. Rory rolled her eyes at herself, feeling as if she were breathing too loudly. She tried to quieten the noise, but found she was struggling to breathe as it was and huffed out air suddenly, attracting Jess' attention again.

"So, uh … " he tried, obviously suffering also. "I should let you work." He drained his coffee cup, dragging his hand through his hair again awkwardly and standing up. "It was nice to see you."

"No," she said, so abruptly that the words coming from her mouth startled her, not meaning it as an answer to what he had said. It _had_ been nice to see Jess again.

"No?" he asked, the hurt tone of his voice making Rory's chest hurt.

"No, I mean … I'm done. With work. It's been … I mean, it's _you_."

He was smirking again, after realising what she meant. "And that in English?"

"You used to speak Gilmore. I'm disappointed, Jess." She was trying to joke, knowing that her words could cause the situation to become too serious, too soon.

"Rory," he said in a lower tone, his shoulders relaxing, looking at her in his x-ray vision sort of way.

"I've missed you. I don't want you to go." Her honesty made his eyes widen, his expression open. He looked just like she remembered in his unguarded moments. Her heart hurt a little more.

"Okay," he replied, smoky and soft. "Finish your coffee."

"Finish my …? Why?" she asked, in confusion.

"D'you have somewhere to be?" he asked, ignoring her confusion.

"N-no, but I..."

"Okay then. Come on."

"Come where?" He just grinned and didn't answer her. He started for the door of the warm coffee shop. "Jess!" she cried, trying to save everything on her laptop before closing it and shoving it in her bag. She hurried after him as he passed the window and down the street. "I can't believe I'm following you!" she cried as she tried to catch up, following the familiar gait.

"Makes a change from _me_ following _you_," he laughed.

Rory gasped. "Stalker!" She finally caught up to him, still rushing at his side as he hurried wherever he was going.

"I was _joking_."

"Jess, can you slow down. You know I'm not built for sports!"

He turned to her with and eyebrow raised, walking backwards casually. "We're _walking_. If you think _this_ is a sport, I think we've discovered your problem." He turned back around just in time to step skilfully out of the way of another commuter.

"This isn't fair! I've got stuff to carry."

Jess stopped abruptly, turning, nodding. "That's true." He took her laptop bag from her, and her book bag, carrying them at his side. "Better?"

"I can carry my own bags," Rory huffed a little, her feminist side taking a small knock.

He laughed, rolling his eyes at her, giving her her laptop back. "Okay. We'll share. Better?"

Rory looked at him furtively. "Yes," she admitted, knowing full well that he'd handed her the lightest bag back, but he knew she'd pout about it if there was no gesture to rectify.

"Okay then," he smirked, before hurrying off again. She sped after him.

"Jess, where are we going? Because in all honestly, alarm bells are ringing about following a strange man to an unknown location without anyone knowing my whereabouts."

"Strange man?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her over his shoulder.

"You know what I mean."

He stopped again, turning to face her. "Do tell," he suggested, his eyebrows still raised in a sarcastic manner.

Unexpectedly, Rory was overcome. This was Jess in front of her. _Her Jess_. A boy she'd loved for all too long. A boy she'd _never_ expressed that particular sentiment to. Her Dodger. Someone she could be herself with – completely. Someone other than her mother who understood every quirk of her personality.

His expression softened, watching her think all of this,and then there were tears in her eyes. And then she was standing right in front of him.

"Ror'?" he choked a little, the closeness being on her terms this time, rather than his, clearly taken aback.

"Are you with anyone?" she made herself say, her eyes searching for an answer before he could reply. Her voice wobbled and the tears welling at her lashes, then graced her cheeks.

His jaw snapped shut, staring at her for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head minutely.

Rory nodded, looking down, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Okay," she said, her voice breaking.

"You?" he rasped, gripping her book bag a little tighter. He was staring at her intently, and she couldn't help but laugh humourlessly.

"I'm not seeing anyone," she confirmed. They stared at each other for a very long time.

Jess looked down at his shoes, and Rory tried to wipe away the tears that were still flowing down her cheeks. But as she did this, Jess' hand joined hers, drawing her closer to him so that she could feel his warm breath against her cheeks in the cold air of New York in December. Somewhere along the way, her bags dropped at their feet.

His forehead rested against hers and she closed her eyes, her heart swelling painfully, her lungs screaming for the breath she hadn't taken in several moments. They stayed in a safe cocoon like that for a long time, just breathing each other in for a while. But then Jess kissed her, and everything melted away, like it always did when he kissed her.

Her heart throbbed painfully, blood rushing all over her body. She felt light-headed and lost and drunk, and she was on fire. His hands were hot on the sides of her face, his body pressed to hers so perfectly. They fit. They worked.

God, she'd missed him.

God, she loved him.

Minutes passed and he drew away to look at her, her cheeks still wet from her tears. He brushed her hair back from her face seriously, before smiling the most genuine grin Rory had ever seen on his beautiful face. "I missed you," he rasped out.

"I love you," she told him, suddenly feeling brave and non-calculating and didn't feel any need for a pro/con list, for the first time in her life. She looked at him standing there, his lips having just been on hers, knowing that _she_ had made them that way, all pink and kissed, and she loved him.

His eyes widened fractionally at her admission, his mouth opening wordlessly for a second, before his brain kicked in. "I love you, too, Rory."

"Good," she nodded, her eyes still searching his face. She pulled at the collar of his leather jacket, dragging his lips to hers again, her eyes closing as more tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he rasped again, noticing that her tears were still falling.

"Sorry. I never cry this much," she said, pulling away from him a bit.

"You do around me," he said, a little bitterly.

"Jess," she said sadly, placing her hand on his cheek. "Don't be sad."

"I'm not – really, I'm not." He looked at her, searchingly, his hands still holding her at her waist. "Ror'?"

"Yeah?" she asked, wiping her face with her sleeves again, her tears finally stopping – happy tears, nostalgic tears.

"Are … uh. Do you want to be together again?" he asked nervously, watching her with soft eyes.

She smiled at his terrified face. "Was that not clear?" Despite her mockery, Jess remained serious. He drew her face to his and almost killed her with the emotion he put into it. Panting, they eventually pulled away. "You do realise you now have to come home to Stars Hollow with me at Christmas," she teased, grinning at him in close proximity.

"Worth it," he mumbled against her cheek, and she laughed brightly as they stood there in the freezing cold outside The Strand, wrapped up in each other and finally feeling like they were home.


	2. Chapter 2

"So," Jess said lightly, stepping back from Rory. Instantly she was freezing, and shuddered. He smirked a bit at that and wrapped an arm around her and began walking again, picking both of the bags up and carrying them.

Rory couldn't talk yet, to ask where he was headed. All the emotion of the past hour was just getting to her, so she let him lead her … wherever. She would deny to anyone but Jess that she would let a man lead her anywhere. Jess was a special case.

He answered her without having to ask, though. "I thought we could go back to my apartment. There's about fifty books I want to show you."

"What a line," she laughed, the nostalgia of it making her lose her silence.

He smirked down at her, rolling his eyes. "There really is. I swear! It's not a line," he laughed. But she was looking at him in disbelief and he folded instantly. "Okay, it's _a small_ line. But I really do have books to show you. Ever since I left … well, every time I found something I knew you'd like, I'd want to call you …" He sighed the end of his sentence, falling away. He looked at her, her eyes wide, intent on what he was saying, so he continued, "Basically, I kept writing in the margins for you."

Rory smiled. She loved his notes. Little vignettes of Jess' mind, so elusive in real terms – Jess was not one for the spoken word, although seemingly things had gotten a little better on that front – but on the page, Jess was a whole macrocosm of shrewd, esoteric, curt, bitingly real fantasy. He was insightful in ways which Rory had never read before. The characters in his own book were profoundly occult and steeped in whatever Jess had chosen them to be steeped in to create his perfect, tragic story. He had authored Rory's favourite book.

Jess had never been one for happy endings.

She kissed him lightly, and Jess stopped, kissing her properly. She smiled into the kiss, and so did he. He pulled away, looking at her like he was utterly confounded that he was able to kiss her, and she blushed. He cleared his throat, trying to get a handle on himself, and he gestured to a building just down the street. Rory figured it was his apartment block, and they continued on.

-break-

Eventually, they reached the door, and Jess juggled Rory's bags, trying to unlock the door all the while avoiding giving them to her, smirking over his shoulder as she huffed about it. Climbing stairs, Jess stopped outside the eighth door. He opened his apartment and stepped inside, holding the door open for her. The door opened straight into a large living space, and the first thing Rory's eyes were drawn to, Jess noted, were all the books. Shelves upon shelves of them – it was practically a library. And then, between the books, there were CDs and vinyls and … Rory was grinning a little too brightly as she stared around at it all.

Jess stayed silent as she took in his apartment, watching her look at all his worldly possessions. She'd never seen all of his books – the ones he'd had at Luke's were the ones he'd either bought in Stars Hollow, or had been the small sum that Liz could be bothered sending. This was his full collection – it wasn't a Mecca of first editions or anything, but he was proud of the collection he had. And he knew Rory would love them all too. And by the look on her face right now – which was close to tears – she did.

"I can't talk," she eventually uttered, walking over to the shelves and skimming her fingers along the titles. He sat on one of the leather couches in the middle of the room, letting her finish staring at his collection, watching her take mental notes of which ones she needed to borrow.

After a few more moments of this, Rory gasped, and was clutching a book after Jess blinked. She turned around with glaring eyes. Jess looked at the book and took a deep breath, waiting for the assault to begin.

"You wrote another book!" she exclaimed.

Jess bit his lip, laughing nervously. "Um … yeah."

"And this _wasn't_ what you choose to say to me first? Like this isn't … _Jess_! I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

He stared at his knee, which was bobbing up and down nervously. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, still clutching his book to her, staring at him, her expression softer when he looked up again. He smiled a bit. "It's about you."

Jess could hear his blood rushing in his ears, waiting for her reaction to this. This was the first book he'd written, in fact. _The Subsect_ had been written in a coffee shop in Philadelphia over a two month period, and it happened to be the one Chris had knocked off the table and subsequently published.

He hadn't told anyone about _Restricted Movement_ … mostly because it was about her. And he was too hurt by everything that had happened between them. He'd started writing it on the bus to California, because nothing he read could take his mind off of what he was doing. What he'd done. He supposed it was an apology to her. Well, to everyone, for having to know him. For loving him and having it thrown in their faces back at them because he'd been so broken that he couldn't accept happiness or love. He hadn't deserved her love. He hadn't deserved Luke's, either. It was a book of apologies and explanations. He'd always meant her to read it, but seeing her with it made him queasy.

Rory was still staring at him, her lips taut in a thin line, on the verge of tears again. "You wrote me a book?" Jess almost laughed at her conjecture. Everything he'd _ever_ written was for her. "I'm a character in the book? In your book?"

He nodded, watching her intently, but felt uncomfortable. He couldn't tell whether she was happy.

Finally he made himself speak. "I wrote it a long time ago. I just published it this year."

"Why now?" she asked, still staring at him.

"It was burning a hole in my pocket," he smirked, getting up from the couch, making is way through to his small kitchenette, turning on his coffee maker and dumping a load of coffee in the filter. "I think," he called through from the kitchen, "that before you read that you need to ask me whatever you want. Because I'd prefer to try and explain some stuff to you myself. Operative word is try, I guess. You know how the verbal thing comes and … hey," he'd stopped in his tracks, having just turned back around from retrieving to mugs from his cupboard, when Rory had appeared right in front of him. She didn't have the book in her hands anymore, but she had tears on her cheeks, and a smile on her face.

"Stop talking for a second," and with that, she pressed herself to him, threading her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp at the nape of his neck like she always used to, pulling him down the short distance between them. Her lips on his was the closest to happy he had ever felt, and he truly meant that.

She gasped into his mouth as he turned them around and pressed her up against the counter. He growled at the sound, deep in his throat, and he pulled back, his eyes heavy lidded. "What was that for?" he asked, his voice sounding far too low.

"You wrote me a book," she said breathlessly, biting her lip again, and Jess watched her do this, all the while wanting so badly to do that for her.

"I'll write you any book you want," he told her sincerely, and the smile this caused spilt Rory's face like sunbeams. The coffee maker clicked as the last dregs of water filtered through, and Rory turned leaving him breathing heavily, picking up the cups he'd left on the counter, and, taking the carafe from the machine and filling their two cups.

"So you said I could ask you things?" she asked, handing him his coffee, and he smiled, thinking how like Lorelai Rory was in that moment, immediately at home anywhere. She left him in the kitchen and sat on one of the couches, placing her coffee down on a coaster on the coffee table. "If we're doing that, we need ground rules."

"Ground rules?" he asked, coming to sit on the same couch, facing her with his right leg tucked underneath him. He balanced is coffee on his knee, holding it there with his fingertips.

"Like honesty. And no shouting."

"Sounds fair."

"Okay then."

"Go ahead," he told her, smiling. She was becoming uncomfortable, and he knew that she had a backlog of questions to ask. Perhaps she thought that some would have more horrible outcomes than others.

She started out light. "You haven't been coming to Stars Hollow for holidays?"

He shook his head. "I figured you'd still be with Logan or someone who was going to equally hate my guts. I just thought it'd be easier for everyone if I didn't turn up."

"Luke misses you," she said sadly.

"I know," he told her, eyes soft. "I go back there sometimes. My Mom and Doula … well, I visit them in Woodbridge. I've seen Luke, too."

Rory looked down. "So you were just avoiding me?"

"Sort of," Jess nodded. "Only because I thought we'd both done enough damage to each other."

"And now?" Rory asked, sounding upset. "Nothing's changed, has it?"

"I saw you. That's what changed. And for once since we broke up -"

"We didn't break up," Rory cut across him, her lips taut again.

"Okay, since I left. For once since I left, we're in the same place again. And I mean that in the physical and emotional sense. No one was in a relationship … and I saw you and wanted to talk to you. I missed you."

Rory nodded, accepting this. "Okay. So, you left."

It wasn't a question, but Rory couldn't keep eye contact with him, and Jess sighed. "Yeah, I left. I left because I'd failed, and I was ashamed, and the whole thing at the party – I was a mess - and Jimmy showed up at the Diner -"

"Jimmy?"

"My Dad."

"Your -"

"Yeah. He showed for the first time in eighteen years, and … I guess everything just piled on top of me all at once and all of a sudden nothing was working. I hated that I'd wrecked everything, and I was confused. I wanted to see if Jimmy was as much of a fuck-up as me, I guess. I just … I wanted to stop fucking _up_. So I went to California."

"To see your Dad," she confirmed, and Jess nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was ashamed."

"I was on the bus, Jess," she said, a little painfully.

"I'm sorry," he told her, looking down at his cup as the steam rose around his hand as he held it awkwardly on his knee. "I can't exactly explain why I didn't say anything, because I don't know. I just couldn't make myself admit what I was doing. I knew as soon as I said it out loud, it would sound ridiculous to me, and I wouldn't go. And I wanted to go."

"I thought it was me," she told him, whispering. "I thought – because of what happened at the party -"

"I didn't skip town because – _Ror'_," he repined, putting his coffee on the table, leaning towards her. "Please tell me you didn't think _that_."

She didn't make eye contact with him for a minute, but eventually she looked up at him, her blue eyes glassy. "I knew about school. But I didn't think that was the only thing that made you run."

He closed his eyes, dragging a hand through his hair, breathing out in a gust. "Rory, I didn't leave because of you. I couldn't even say goodbye to you. Because I knew if I did, I would stay. And after Luke kicked me out, I couldn't do that. I _loved_ you. You were the only thing in that crazy town that ever made any sense to me. I didn't leave because you wouldn't _sleep_ with me." Jess' heart had broken all over again, looking at her sitting there, having thought that all those years ago, and all the years since. He hated himself all over again.

"It made it easier to rationalise – thinking that," she explained, looking embarrassed. Jess nodded tersely, dragging his hand through his hair again. "Like, I guess, how it made it easier for you to think that I'd come to Truncheon to cheat on Logan with you. And it was easier for me to think that way, too."

"You didn't?"

Rory shook her head. But despite her action, she said, "I don't know." She was quiet for a second, before uttering, "I'm not proud, Jess. I really was in love with him. I just … the me that came to your Open House wasn't _me_."

"I know," he told her softly. "I told you that when you dropped out of Yale."

She nodded, tugging a hand through her curled hair, falling somewhere between her shoulder blades as she dropped it from her fingertips.

"It was easier for me to pretend that I'd done it to hurt Logan. I didn't even _tell_ him about it in the end. He had the accident … I just told myself that I'd done it because he'd hurt me, and I loved him. But that never really did explain why I went to _you_."

"You'd already cheated with me before?" he offered, swallowing thickly at the memory.

Rory was biting her lip to keep from crying, but she was failing. "Why was it that I kept doing that, Jess? Why have I cheated on every long-term boyfriend I've had with you?" Her eyes searched his for a long time, and her chest was constricting as she struggled not to cry. She didn't know what to do with her hands, and she curled her legs towards her, as if comforting herself.

Jess shook his head, closing his eyes. "This is hard," he told her.

"I'm sorry. I'm just … I want to be honest."

"So what happened with him? You were in love with him, and then..?" he asked, breaking eye contact with her and picking at the leather where it was a little worn.

"He asked me to marry him at my graduation – well … before that, actually. In a room full of my family … my Mom, my Dad … my Grandparents, a whole bunch of their friends. It was mortifying. It was -"

"So not you," he finished for her, and she nodded in agreement, squirming at the memory.

"Then, at my graduation, he gave me an ultimatum. Either I accepted him and moved to the West Coast with him where he had gotten a job – live the trophy wife life, or … Or I didn't."

"So saying no meant that you couldn't be together anymore?" Jess asked incredulously.

"I guess."

"Well, that's bull. The guy's total dick. I … well, maybe I had other reasons for hating him, but he didn't treat you right, Rory."

"Neither did you," Rory said bitterly, darkly.

Jess watched her painfully. "I know." Rory nodded, rubbing her arm awkwardly, trying to study the room again. Jess was quiet, then he said, "I couldn't love anyone else after you."

"Jess," she whispered in reproach, trying to catch the tears with the back of her hand that had slipped out from her rapid blinking at his admission, but he continued.

"I'd never loved anyone before you, and I haven't after. I haven't been a monk, but I may as well have. None of them meant anything. I was always a little jealous that you found someone else. I was sort of glad in a sick way that that blonde d- uh … Logan," he corrected sheepishly, "I was glad that you loved him. Sex without love is empty. At least your first time was with someone you loved, jackass or not." Rory faltered. "It wasn't him?" Jess asked, picking up on Rory's discomfort.

"This is when you don't get mad," she reminded him. Jess' face darkened a little. "I slept with Dean. After you left town – way after. After your Mom's wedding. I was in Freshman year."

"Dean," Jess repeated, trying to not react, but he was suffering. Dean had been the first guy to … _God, she'd deserved more than that._

"It was the worst mistake of my life. I hurt so many people. Dean was married. It was … It's not one of my shining moments."

Jess took several moments to answer, and Rory, blissfully, let him precess this in silence. He had to stand up, away from her. He paced to the window and placed both of his hands either side of it, leaning his forehead on the cool glass. "Why?" he managed to rasp out, not being able to look at her at all.

"I don't know." His right hand pounded the window frame suddenly, and he leaned away from the glass, trying to steady himself.

"Rory, you don't do stuff like that without thinking about it," he told her dangerously. "You, of all people."

Rory cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Please don't be angry," she said softly.

"Just tell me."

"When you came to visit me in my dorm … I … This is really hard to explain without it sounding awful. Like I was consciously _trying_ to hurt you. I swear I wasn't. I _swear_." Rory took a deep breath. "I guess I was trying to prove to myself that not going with you was right. So I slept with Dean to prove to myself that I was over you. I guess I was trying to … regress? Erase you from my life? That I didn't want to leave everything I'd worked for – Yale and the paper and everything I loved – and leave with you to God-knows-where."

Jess opened his eyes, painfully, and turned to face her, resting on the window ledge, his blood pressure returning to normal. "I shouldn't have asked you to do that."

"I shouldn't have wanted to go with you," Rory told him. "But I did."

"You deserved better than Dean," he said definitely.

"I wanted it to be you." Rory looked at him with clear eyes, her face so honest and her words blunt.

Jess nodded. "I know you did. You deserved better than me, too."

She shook her head, but knew words would fall on deaf ears. He knew she didn't think that. But he knew it to be true. Rory picked up her coffee, taking a sip, watching him for a moment. "I think I'm done," she said eventually.

He nodded. "So what now?"

Rory studied him for a while longer, sipping at her coffee, and eventually draining it. She placed her coffee down and got up from the couch, browsing, this time, his music collection. Selecting a disc, she put it in the player. It was Coral Fang by The Distillers – the tour he'd taken her to. She smiled at him innocently. "Not exactly a romantic selection, but I think it's right for us, don't you think?"

He watched her silently as she took his cold cup of coffee and placed it to her lips, smiling at him coyly. He couldn't help but smirk at her. He had missed her too much … Just too much. It had made him soft. It had made him act like a sap.

But then again, he always had with her.

_A/N: Hey. I wasn't sure whether to continue this … But this happened, because it has always fascinated me how all the issues would even themselves out. Whether they'd just ignore everything (because come on, in what world would that work?) or whether Jess'd write it all out (because he was always better with written word than spoken), or that they'd actually talk … So this is Jess and Rory who've grown up apart, talking. I think it works. _

_Anyway, thanks for reading. Do review if you have any thoughts on it. They are read gladly._

_x_


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